Flawed
by Jade Wyvern
Summary: Perfection cannot be obtained because of the limits set before us. What happens when, at your most critical moment, you simply cannot go any further? [The length makes up for the slow updates.]
1. Prologue: The Cost of Imperfection

_Author's Note:_ Some of you may have heard of a person who went by the name of Dark Conscience, a person under this account. She made the story The Fire Emblem Intelligences Test that you may, or may not, have read. Well, I am here to announce that…

I am not her.

No! Wait! Don't turn around and go just yet! Just because this is the first fanfic I've done in the Fire Emblem section doesn't give you any reason to resent it, does it? Come on, give it a shot. I'd be very grateful. 

For those curious, I go about under the alias Alley Cat. Dark Conscience and I used to share this account, which is why we have pen names within our fanfiction username. However, some time ago, Dark Conscience grew…bored of the whole writing business and, well, dropped off the face of fanfiction – or any fiction at all at that. Therefore, I'm practically completely in control of this account now – not that it's a bad thing I guess.

But, let's get back on topic, shall we? I seemed to have stalled you long enough.

I hope you enjoy this story, even if it's only the prologue right now. It means a lot to me when people read my work, but it means even more when people tell me what they think about it.

So, please, read.

Enjoy.

And drop off a review if you feel like it.

* * *

**Prologue: The Cost of Imperfection**

Limitless. Does the word even belong in our vocabulary? Limits are always there as a reminder of our imperfection, a haunting on our very being.

Everyone – and everything – has a limit. There is a limit on the strength of any strong man, a limit on the mental capacity of any living thing, a limit on the talent and skill of any person.

Everyone has their limits. We don't deny it. While some limits are pushed or extended, others are hindered or impeded upon. Some people are born with limits that seem never-ending, while others feel as if theirs are right in front of their noses. There are those who run toward their own limit with blinding speed, and there are those who might never reach them.

But what if that's wrong? What if we're simply looking at the wrong examples? Could it be that, in our mad rush to find our own limits, we've completely overlooked the other possibility? What if our only _real_ limit is that of our psychology? Could it be that we've thoroughly convinced ourselves to believe a complete lie just to satiate our own desire for knowledge?

If the latter is true, then there must be some proof of it.

Can a star always exist in the night sky, glowing as proudly as ever?

Can love last for all of eternity, even past the limits set by death?

Can a person run forever if they tried hard enough?

Can a creature always survive through every hardship, no matter the physical or mental obstacle?

If things are truly infinite, how are we able to label anything?

If things are truly infinite, how are we able to have such a thing as death?

If things are truly infinite, how are we able to keep ourselves sane while storing such a large amount of knowledge?

If things are truly infinite, how are we able to find a meaning to continue living?

Just as the bird is limited to how high it can fly, so are we – as humans – limited to how far we are able to reach – with our hands and with our minds.

But what happens when this limit is met? Do we thrash about in our misery, attempting to unsuccessfully break this boundary? Do we accept our fate and stay inert for the remainder of our lives? Do we choose death over life?

What happens when we are simply at_ the _limit?

* * *

_Author's Note:_ I understand the prologue's short. I also realize that it is not Fire Emblem-oriented at all. However, please hold off your flames. For now at least. The first chapter will be up fairly soon and will tie the story into Fire Emblem.

Don't feel obliged to review this short segment though, for it is only a prologue. If you don't feel like commenting on it, you don't have to. In the meantime, I'll work on getting the real chapter up. I have it written, I just need to upload it.

Thank you for your patience, and thank you for reading! 

-Alley Cat


	2. Chapter 1: If Only

_Author's Note:_ …First off, before I say anything more: I promise my author's notes will stop being so lengthy after the first few chapters. I just want to clear up a few things; that's all. After that, there'll probably be short notes at the end and/or beginning of the chapter or perhaps even none at all. Until then, I suppose you'll just have to deal with my random ramblings. I apologize dearly for that.

My original intention was to make an action/adventure story based on the characters of Fire Emblem 7: Rekka No Ken. However, I could never find a way to do so during the time period of the actual game (for it'd simply be a repeat) so I decided that the only way is to make this a period after the game ends. (I didn't add the concept in the prologue until later; I'll entwine them eventually.)

But wait, you say, isn't Fire Emblem 6 after the game? Why, yes, I believe it is. This was another problem I encountered. Therefore, I decided that this story must fit as snuggly as possible between FE7 and FE6. I had to alter a few things first though. All of the weddings/marriages/children born at the end of FE7 don't exist yet. I got rid of all the love/romance created during the journey, though most of the support conversations remain – if that makes any sense. I guess you can also just guess your way through the story what I kept and what I threw out. This also means that Ninian had to return to her world and leave Eliwood in this one – meaning no Eliwood/Ninian pairing. I wish it didn't have to be this way but it must for the sake of an action/adventure story being able to fit in.

Additionally, on a different topic, I shall refer to Matthew's hair as brown, as it seems that it's some shade of brown/red/blond. So, to make things simple for me, I'm simply going to go with brown. In this case, brown can stand for: honey-colored, sandy auburn, rusty blond, and any other color you can use to describe Matthew's hair. So feel free to use your imagination.

Now enough of my rambling. Let's get on with the chapter, shall we? I apologize for the chapter length – I know it's long. I did separate them into sections too, though, so that you can take a break if you need to. My chapter average may be this long, but I'm not sure yet. But, please, give it a chance?

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Fire Emblem. I don't own the characters. I don't even own the game.

* * *

**Chapter 1: If Only**

Brilliant blue eyes that held honesty and compassion for his people like no other. Resplendent red hair that dazzled all the maidens in the land. A heart of gold and a will for peace. His characteristics were unmistakable. Eliwood, now Marquess Pherae, was known to lands as far as Ilia and Kafti for his encounter with the Black Fang not too long ago. As much as Eliwood disliked the attention, he had confessed that he could now easily ask for assistance of any kind if he needed it.

Regardless of the past events, things had calmed down now in terms of war and combat. He no longer had the duties of a warrior to deal with but, instead, the duties of a Marquess.

This did not mean, however, that he had not been impacted by the Black Fang. Previously, with all the action on the battlefield and constant pursuit, his feelings were pushed aside so that his father's dying wish could be obtained. His father's last words still clung to him like death itself. _You, Eliwood… You must finish this._ To the very end, his words remained noble and pure. _Eleanora… She will be cross with me. Eliwood… Your mother… Tell her…I'm…sorry…_

Now, there was nothing to keep him from the feelings that flooded every line, every inch, of his body. It was why he tended to escape from the castle every now and then for some fresh air. With his slender frame, he could easily slip out of the palace walls undetected.

His hand gently ran along the designs of the column behind him, breaking him momentarily from his thoughts. This place was where he always seemed to end up: the temple of Saint Elimine.

The young, red-haired Lord let out a soft sigh, watching the puff of smoke dissipate into the cold winter air. His eyes were turned to to the clear blue sky, though it was obvious his concentration was elsewhere.

It had been almost a year since everything had happened – his father's death, Nergal's defeat, the three Fire Dragons from Dragon's Gate, Ninian's leave from this world… The events were hard on him, as they would have been on anyone. They had also managed to disturb the kingdom – the land was thrown into turmoil and disorder. Pherae had lost its leader to some lunatic trying to gain ultimate power. Although Eliwood had tried his best in the past year to keep the hysterics under control, some of the people were still frustrated with the loss of their previous Marquess.

Eliwood's heart behaved in much the same way as his land. The heartache that had seared his spirit just a few months ago had ebbed to a dull pounding, despite the fact that every now and then the wound reopened itself to be exposed to life's harsh breath. There were times when he just wished that he could recoil from the outside world and allow the darkness to claim him, but he couldn't permit himself to do so. He had a duty to uphold and a debt to pay to the people of Pherae.

The sound of flapping wings brought the Lord's attention back to the world in front of him. Instinctively, his hands settled over the hilt of his prized sword, the Durandal, and slid it out of its sheath, leveling the tip at the source of the noise. The weapon gleamed eagerly in the morning sun – its blade proudly awaiting the enemy's flesh. However, when Eliwood searched for his potential foe, the only possible source of the noise was a single black bird, its lustrous wings boastfully reflecting back the light from the sky above.

After taking another look around to reconfirm that it was only the rustling of the bird's feathers that had interrupted the silence, his body leaned back against the column behind him as he returned his sword to its scabbard. His head fell back against the pillar with a soft 'thud' as his blue eyes stared enviously at the crow just beyond his reach.

What did it feel like to be truly free? To be unlimited and unrestricted, free from the chains that bound just about every living thing securely to the ground? Those wings were what allowed that bird to carry itself to wherever it wished. If he had those wings, he'd fly away – away from his duties as Marquess, away from the castle, and away from his pain.

Heavy footsteps broke through the Marquess's musings, pulling him from his train of thought a second time. There was no mistaking it this time; it was a person. Eliwood's upper body heaved forward to see the intruder, his right hand returning the Durandal's hilt.

"What's made you so uptight?" came a familiar jovial voice. The blue-haired Lord clanked his way in front of Eliwood, the bulk of his blue armor blocking most of the smaller Lord's view of the vicinity.

"Hector," Eliwood breathed out, relaxing again against the ornate column. His eyes flitted over to the bird one last time before looking away, turning his eyes to what he could see of his surroundings instead of focusing on his long-time companion. "Ever since that incident with Black Fang, I haven't quite been able to keep my guard down," he explained, allowing his hand to fall from his sword's hilt to his side.

"I see," Hector replied softly, shifting from one foot to the other. He eyed the Durandal skeptically, silently acknowledging that his friend had thought he was a potential threat. But, after all the commotion in the past year, who wouldn't be slightly edgy?

Hector, Marquess of Ostia, had also lost someone in the seemingly still recent events: his older brother, Lord Uther. Nevertheless, he couldn't completely understand how Eliwood felt; he could only wish he could. Uther had died of consumption, while Eliwood's father died at the hands of a corrupt man. Hector also had a feeling that Ninian's departure had slid the red-haired Lord even more into his depression.

Hector, every once in a while, travelled over to Pherae to visit Eliwood and all the others who had accompanied them on their journey – if he had the chance to meet them that is. He went under his usual guise that, if he really was always in his rightful place, there was something wrong with him. Of course, he wished he could see everyone more often and enjoy their company, but Hector had also just taken up the role of Marquess not too long ago. Ostia needed him just as Pherae needed Eliwood.

Silence quickly enveloped the two friends, the crow's call becoming the only audible sound between them. Hector had realized soon after defeating the Fire Dragon that Eliwood had begun to withdraw from everyone – the little family he had left as well as the many friends he had made on his journey. Even Hector, Eliwood's closest friend, was beginning to feel uncomfortable with the distance.

A few minutes passed before Eliwood's thin voice broke the silence. It sounded almost as if the young Lord was desperate for some comfort. "How do you do it?" It was so soft that Hector had to strain to hear it.

"How do I do what?" Hector asked in return, his voice seeming more serious than before. At last, Eliwood returned his blue-eyed stare to his best friend. The two pairs of blue eyes locked for just a moment before Eliwood decided that the ground needed some more inspecting.

"How do you manage to stay happy? How can you truly stay content? We were fighting for so long. We endured so many hardships. How did you get used to the contrasting life of a Marquess so easily?" Eliwood's hard exterior seemed to have cracked a little upon seeing his friend, and his feelings forcefully leaked through.

Although he had made no sudden movements, his eyes told the story. Those blue eyes were desperately searching for an answer, any answer at all. His lips parted again to utter one last question: "How do you manage to keep the pain at bay?"

Hector paused briefly, taking the time to consider the question before speaking. "I try to think ahead instead of behind," he responded slowly, picking his words carefully. He had never been questioned by others nor had he ever questioned himself about this delicate topic. "I can't change what happened, so I try not to dwell upon it for too long," he said finally.

Eliwood stayed silent, refusing to look the other in the eye, and the air around them thickened with tension. Taking a deep breath, Hector decided to change the subject, hoping it would help take both of their minds away from such negativity. "I heard that there's going to be a ball tomorrow. For the winter festival, right?" His voice sounded eager though the half-smile he plastered on showed it was only an act to cheer Eliwood up. Interestingly enough, his half-smile was met with the other's, both trying to make the other one feel better.

"Yeah," Eliwood responded quietly, trying his best to be at least a bit more optimistic.

Hector grinned, thankful that Eliwood had played along with the subject change. "Have you found anyone to dance with yet?" he asked, a mischievous sparkle crossing through his eyes.

"I have not," Eliwood said nonchalantly, giving an equally playful glare to the Ostian Marquess in front of him. Through the years, their friendship had never ceased to be the strongest in their lives – even after everything they went through. Silently, Eliwood thanked him for that. It was a relief to know he still had people who would so strongly stand by him. "Of course, being the Marquess, I'm probably required to find a dancing partner, but whoever it may be, I'm not interested in marrying them." Hector could have pointed out that Eliwood should have been considering finding a wife, but he decided not to. Besides, Hector had the same problem. It was for the better if it simply wasn't mentioned any further; his main objective was to cheer the young Marquess up anyhow.

"I'm sure Serra would love your ball. She adores showing herself off," Hector remarked, turning to look at the position of the sun. "Though, I'm sure Matthew would have fun in some way or another as well. I brought them both with me – as I usually do." He drew in a deep breath before refocusing on Eliwood. At least he had managed to ease the tensions some. "Let's get back to the castle, shall we? Ever since you left, the people have been in a bit of a panic at the palace."

Eliwood watched his hot breath fade into the cold winter air once more before turning his gaze towards the sun. "Yes, I suppose they would be," he admitted, pushing his weight back onto his feet instead of the column, and politely waited for Hector to leave first. With an airy sigh, the heavily-armored Lord began the trek out of the temple and down the road that would take them back to Pherae Castle. Out of the corner of his eye, Hector could see Eliwood following closely after, yet the red-haired Lord was gazing not at the path in front of them but at the sky behind.

It was hard to tell, but Hector was pretty sure that his friend's eyes were not on the changing colors made by the continuously rising sun but on the noisy bird happily cawing its way across the horizon. All Hector could do was sigh softly and return his gaze to the path before them. If he could not force Eliwood to look ahead, then it was his duty to guide him there.

As Eliwood watched the crow slowly disappear into the distance, there was only one thought that managed to stay in his head: _Is this all life has in store for me?_

_

* * *

_Erk carefully approached the half-opened door, hoping that someone inside could, at the very least, tell him where Lord Eliwood was. There were some unsettling rumors around Etruria, and he felt that it would be important for Lord Eliwood to hear them. It was the music coming from the room that had caught his attention. Music meant there would be someone inside, hopefully someone that could and would help him. The closer he got, the easier it was to discern the melody. It was a waltz, something he hadn't been quite expecting. Hesitant to disturb whoever was inside, he clutched his spellbook at his side and gently pushed the door open. He was hoping to only interrupt for the briefest of moments. 

When the crack was wide enough, Erk poked his head in, his hand staying gently on the door in case he should have to exit quickly. Inside the room was a very feminine figure, partway facing him and dressed in a slender white dress and long white gloves with a light purple shawl. Her long, pink hair was in two pigtails high on the sides of her head.

Oh Holy Elimine, it was _her_. He needed quick exit after all. He was almost all of the way out of the room…when he stopped.

With the music playing softly near the corner of her room, Serra was standing as straight as she could. Her arms were held elegantly in front of her – one hand in front of her waist and one slightly above eye-level. Those purple eyes of hers were closed shut and focused on the pattern her feet were making on the ground. She spoke the time quietly, a soft "One, two, three, one, two three."

Oh, how she wanted to dance! How wonderful it would be to waltz in all her splendor! The waltz was such a beautiful dance. It showed elegance and grace – and who was more elegant and graceful than the lovely Serra? No one! At least, not anyone that her ego would let her recognize.

It was all in the waltz, everything she considered herself to be. Romance, refinement, beauty – everything a respected young lady should have and strive to have more of. The strong, yet gentle touch of an equally good-looking and refined man guiding every step; the swirl of the highest-quality skirts when twirled; the shine and shimmer of expensive jewels decorating her hair, neck, and wrists. She wanted it all, and she was determined to get what she wanted.

Erk could only blink dumbfoundedly, staring at the scene before him while his body unconsciously leaned forward. Never had he seen Serra practice like this – it was almost as if, for once in her lifetime, she wanted to improve herself. His eyes gravitated to her face, lost in concentration.

Suddenly, Serra stumbled, tripping over her own two feet. On reflex, she grasped the oak-wood desk next to her to break her fall; this wasn't the first time it had happened. Tears of frustration brimmed in her eyes. Her nails dug into her palms as her teeth bit down onto her lower lip. Standing up once more, she continued from where she had been forced to stop – starting from the same position, and continuing as if nothing had ever interrupted her practice. She wanted to be perfect so that she could show the world that perfection wasn't impossible. At least, not for her.

Erk's gaze eventually went to Serra's feet. To be honest, they were constantly blocking each other with their clumsy movements while trying to find the right steps. Although she tried so hard, she was far from her dream of a perfect dance. Why was she practicing, anyway? Serra didn't do things like this unless it was for a public event. Could it be, perhaps, a ball of sorts?

Erk could understand why Serra constantly felt the need to prove herself to the world and also understood why she'd go to such lengths to impress others. She was raised in a convent, a sad, strange place with no family to stand with her. Sometimes she would even go so far as to deceive herself to protect her fragile psyche. Erk had understood her; he always did. He just never told her outright; it wasn't in his nature to do so. In a sense, he believed that Serra's constant cling to him was because she believed that he understood her at least a little bit. Neither bothered to tell the other, and their words often spilled into petty fights. Regardless, both felt the same tug of understanding – however small.

She fell again, her hand missing the desk and landing her on the cold, hard floor of her room. And there she remained – her tears had finally overflown. Small whimpers of frustration escaped her lips as she tried in vain to curl up.

Worried that she was hurt and couldn't get up, Erk lurched forward quickly, unaware that it caused him to rest most of his body weight on the door. Unfortunately, at the addition of so much weight, the door swung open, disrupting Erk's balance and forcing him to fall to the floor as well.

The noise jolted Serra up from her position, a frantic look entering her eyes when she looked at the door to find the source of the sound. At first, she saw nothing, but then she lowered her gaze to see Erk sprawled across the floor.

Oh Saint Elimine save her!

As quickly as she could, she got up and wiped the tears away from her eyes, preparing herself for the ridicule that was sure to come. Still sniffling every now and then, she told him in the steadiest voice she could manage, "Go ahead. Make fun of me."

Carefully, Erk picked himself off the floor and, for what felt like the longest time, stared silently at Serra. It was depressing to see the usually self-confident, loud-mouthed cleric in such a state.

Tears continued to stream down her face as she just stood there, staring back at him with that defiant look of hers. Nervously pulling back a few purple strands of hair, Erk opened his mouth to say something but closed it soon after, unsure of what to say.

Silence ensued as the mage and the cleric stared at each other, both expecting a rude comment from the other. Erk tried again, finally moving his gaze away from the cleric. "It was…nice," he replied a little forcefully, concentrating very hard on the doorknob behind him. He had a _slight_ problem with lying to people, even if it was to make them feel better. "Just…keep practicing," the young mage continued in a weakly encouraging way, still refusing to meet her eyes. But when he was only met with more silence, he closed his eyes as if to brace himself, turned to her, opened his eyes to meet hers, and forced out a small smile.

Trying her best to wipe the tears away, Serra replied in a quavering voice, "Of course! I don't give up so easily. Besides, I _am_ the best. I'm sure Lord Eliwood and Lord Hector will simply be enraptured with me – as will everyone else at the ball tomorrow. It's all because of my beauty and talent!" With every word, her voice became stronger and more cheerful. Erk brushed himself off before picking up his spellbook from the floor. It was actually somewhat comforting to see the pink-haired cleric acting like her normal self again.

"Oh? A ball tomorrow?" he asked, attempting to be interested while glancing around the contents of Serra's room. She seemed pretty settled in already. An abundance of clothes was in the open closet in the corner, her collection of accessories and beauty supplies were placed on the bureau below the circular mirror, and paintings of herself lined the walls. Erk's face remained neutral – though the slightest sign of a grimace formed at the ends of his lips. Ripping his eyes away from her pictures, he returned his focus back to Serra.

"Yep!" she affirmed, now quite cheerful. "That reminds me: what brings _you_ here, Erky?" Erk's eye twitched at the mention of the nickname she had decided to give him but chose to remain silent, cautious of his words so that the cleric could keep her good mood.

"I came to talk to Lord Eliwood about some rumors I've heard in Etruria. Do you know where he is?"

"Oh Erk, that is so rude of you!" Serra reprimanded, practically cutting across his question. "Why didn't you ask why _I_ was here? After all, it's only polite!"

"Because, frankly, it's none of my business," Erk replied blandly, returning to his usual disinterest. "Now will you please tell me the whereabouts of Lord Eliwood?" Serra finally let out an defeated sigh and shook her head.

"I don't know where he is. You can't expect me to keep tabs on everyone, you know. And, for your information, Lord Hector has come to visit. He loves me so dearly that he just has to bring me wherever he goes! That's why I'm here." She had finished her statement with a pout. The childish fashion of Serra's explanation could have made Erk laugh, but he didn't. Instead, he just shook his head scoldingly.

"Fine," he said, turning to leave. "I guess I'll just have to find my answers elsewhere." Serra's voice made him halt at the doorway.

"Erk?"

"Yeah?"

"…Thank you."

Erk's hand rested on the doorknob but he made no further movement to leave. He turned to face Serra one last time, a genuine smile on his lips. "Don't worry about it." With that, he gave the cleric a small bow before closing the door shut, listening for the faint _click_ to fall in place.

* * *

She was the light. A lantern to his night. When she left him he had nothing but darkness. 

And, as darkness is simply an absence of light, he returned to nothing when her light left him. This terrible, strangling nothingness had, over time, turned into his deepest desire. Death.

The only thing holding him back were his friends, but they were a cheap substitute for the light that had gone out. Even so, he had continued to fight for their cause and protect his own life as best as he could so they could be happy. He knew he would have his shot, though. He would wait.

Matthew sighed as he ran his fingers through his thick, light brown hair. Disappointingly, Lord Hector had gone off by himself, announcing that the young thief need not attend to him. So now Matthew had some free time on his hands. But what was he, an Ostian spy and thief, to do? Rob the Castle Pherae of its royal jewels? Maybe peek into the female servants' bath? Unadvisable. Lord Hector would have his head for that.

To be quite honest, there was nothing he _could_ do. All he could do was stay in his room or visit Serra – which would give him more or less the same amount of enjoyment as declawing a dragon.

Boredom, however, didn't quite describe his feelings. Every moment he lived, every time he breathed, _she_ was with him. In consciousness, she tormented his mind. In dreams, she tortured his soul. Many times he felt her presence around him, watching him and moving with him as if to judge his actions. Often he would wake up in the middle of the night to find her name on his lips, coming out again and again like a chant. A sacred chant.

_Why couldn't it have been me instead of her?_ Every time he awoke, he silently asked Saint Elimine that question.

Every time he asked, he received the worst possible answer.

_Because you weren't there._

To him, it was his biggest mistake and greatest sin. _Because you weren't there_. It was as simple as that. Because he wasn't there to save her.

Giving a heavy sigh, he collapsed onto the bed, brown pupils coming to focus on the white-washed ceiling. Before he could even get lost in his thoughts, a soft knock heralded a visitor. Lord Hector, perhaps? Or maybe Serra? He couldn't think of any business that either would have with him. Stretching his upper body, he sat upright on the bed before replying to the knock with a buoyant, "Come in!" The tone was everything he was supposed to be, and nothing that he was.

The door creaked open as Erk popped his head in. For a moment, the studious mage was surprised that it was Matthew in the room. Although, once he thought about it, it wasn't entirely that strange. Serra was here, and she had mentioned that Lord Hector had brought her with him. It was reasonable, then, that Matthew would be here as well.

"Sorry," Erk quickly apologized. "I didn't realize this was your room. I didn't mean to interrupt." He gave a nod of apology and moved to close the door.

"Wait! It's fine," Matthew said quickly, moving to the door and pulling it farther open. "What is it that you wanted?" Company was always more than welcome for him these days – unless it was from the loud-mouthed cleric next door, of course.

Erk tousled his hair with his hand for a moment. He felt that he was being oddly disruptive today, which made him feel rather uncomfortable. "Do you happen to know the whereabouts of Lord Eliwood? I've been searching for him all day and haven't had much assistance in being able to find him," he said rather exasperatedly.

Matthew examined the mage for a moment before answering him. Erk really did look worn out. If he had really been trying so hard to find the red-haired Lord, then there must be something rather unsettling occuring in the land. "No," he replied, knowing he was disappointing the mage. "But I do know that the whole castle's in an uproar because he's gone," he added quickly in a hopefully helpful sort of voice. "Is there any specific reason you're looking for him?"

Erk still had a firm hand on the door, seeming to mull the question over in his head. He didn't want to alarm anyone, especially if the rumors proved to be false. "No, not really," he said nonchalantly. "I just wanted to talk with him about some gossip I've heard around Etruria." Matthew's interest piqued.

"Oh? And what kind of gossip would that be?" Erk shuffled his feet, averting his gaze to the ground. For a moment, he considered the idea but then he quickly decided against it. There may come a time where it would be right to tell the others, but, until then, he might as well keep it a secret so as not to alarm anyone.

"Nothing really," he replied uneasily, hoping Matthew would drop the subject. "It's nothing you need be concerned about."

"I'll pay you a pretty penny if you tell me," Matthew cooed gleefully, waving around a gold coin.

"Matthew, I'm not Serra," Erk exclaimed frustratedly, hardly believing that the thief would think that such an old ruse would work against him.

"Fine," came the reply, a barely disguised whine thrown in for good measure. He put the coin away – maybe he could use it on someone else later. Erk had let out a breath of relief before returning to his problem. If no one knew the location of Lord Eliwood, who else was there to look for?

"Matthew, do you know where Lord Hector is then?" Erk began again, confident that Matthew at least knew that much.

"No." The same response. "Young Master ran off a while ago in search of Lord Eliwood." The mage scowled lightly.

"I think I should just give up and wait for him to come to me," he concluded in a frustrated manner. "I've disrupted at least half of the castle looking for him now."

"That's a good idea!" Matthew responded enthusiastically, his smile turning into a mischievious grin. "So, while we wait, why don't you tell me a bit about those rumors, eh?" Erk's eye twitched slightly as he stared at Matthew, getting irritated at the thief's persistent attempts to obtain information from him.

"While we wait, why don't I use you as target practice? How about that, eh?" he replied, imitating Matthew's style of speech while threateningly holding up his Fire tome with his right hand. Matthew quickly held up his hands in protest.

"I merely jest, my friend! In fact, I was just leaving! Please, use my room if you wish!" With that, he made an attempt to go, trying to slip past Erk and make his way out the door. The mage held out his right arm out to block him, the overly large book doing an excellent job of impeding the thief's path.

"No, it's fine. I am the one who will depart," Erk said calmly, halting his friend in his tracks. Matthew opened his mouth to object but the young mage had already turned to leave.

"Very well," he sighed, giving in. "If that is what you wish…" Running a hand carelessly through his thick locks, he sat upon his bed. "So, what are you going to do now? After all, it is a little futile trying to find the both of them when they're outside the castle walls, right?" Erk could only shrug.

"I realize that, but I suppose I will just have to wait patiently until they return. I would rather not be in the company of the cleric next door at the moment, and I believe I have already troubled you enough as it is. In the meantime, I'll see if I can acquire a room for the night since I doubt I'll be leaving any time soon."

"You know, you could stay here for a bit if you desire."

"My apologies but I don't think I will be. It's been a long day, and I wouldn't mind some time alone to relax a bit. However, if you wish to talk, we can do so later. For now, enjoy your rest. I'm sure Lord Hector has worked you hard." Then, with the speed of any practiced thief, the mage left in a flurry of his cloak.

Matthew could only watch him leave.

Well, actually, being the thief he was, he _could_ stalk the fellow. Oh yes. And maybe he could pick up some jewels while he was at it, never mind that he had decided against it earlier. He could take it as an…extra bonus from Lord Hector for his travelling expenses. And maybe he'd be able to hear a little more about those rumors the mage wished to conceal so badly. A devilish grin crawled up the Ostian spy's face as he rose from the bed.

As his old self would say: Treasure time! Treasure time!

* * *

"Ah, Eliwood. You made it back safely. I am relieved," came a soft voice from a left-hand corridor. 

At first, Eliwood was taken aback by his mother's sudden appearance, but he quickly regained his composure before it became too noticable. It felt odd for her to just appear like that – so silent that her arrival was unexpected, acting for all the world as if she knew he'd be walking through the halls. "Mother, I have only been gone for a few hours," he said softly, hoping to comfort her worries.

"I know, but…" she trailed off, not knowing quite how to express her feelings. She began speaking slowly and carefully, speeding up as she became more sure of her words. "Eliwood, I have already lost your father. I do not wish to lose you too. You're all that I have left. Even if it's just a few hours, I feel that those few hours could bring about your death. Stay with me. Stay safe within the castle. Please. I beg of you."

"Mother…I…" Eliwood stopped his sentence, unable to continue. How was he to explain his feelings without hurting her so? Hector shifted uncomfortably next to him, the metal pieces of his armor clanking softly to make the two aware of his presence. As a vain attempt to break the tension, he coughed weakly before he spoke.

"I believe I'll take a brief walk outside. It's…ahh…been a while since I've had some fresh air," the blue-haired Lord lied leisurely, blatantly ignoring the fact that he had just come from outside. Before either could object, he made his way through the door and out of sight.

Eliwood took a deep breath in an effort to compose himself a little more. Silently, he once again thanked the Ostian Lord. Hector always knew how to comfort him, even if it was against the etiquette for a Marquess. While he mulled all of this over, his mother surprised him by taking the initiative to speak.

"Eliwood, I apologize. That was rude of me. I cannot control where you go or what you do. All I can do is pray for your safe return. It's just…a mother's worry…is sometimes unbearable." She paused here as if trying to regain her own composure. "I trust you, Eliwood, just as your father did," she continued, almost as to attest to herself that it was, indeed, a fact. "You're already a grown man now, aren't you? I cannot believe I had to remind myself of that. Yes, you are a very strong man with a strong heart. I suppose I have just been a little uneasy. That is all."

"Rest assured mother; I would not allow myself to cause you any more worry."

"Of course, of course. How could I allow myself, of all people, to forget that?" Eleanora murmured, apparently deciding to talk more to herself than Eliwood. She closed her eyes to engrave into her mind that her son was strong and brave, that he would not die no matter what may come. As she opened her violet eyes, she saw Eliwood part his lips to speak again, but she deftly inserted her own statement before it turned into something as rude as interrupting him. "Thank you, Eliwood, for calming my fears. Please forgive my intrusion and go about your business as I have suddenly remembered some urgent errands I need to run." Before she even finished her sentence, she had already turned her back to him, strolling into a side corridor.

Eliwood sighed softly, watching his mother go. Honestly, he was unsure what to tell her and even more unsure about how to feel about the whole situation. Before she could get too far, she stopped suddenly and spoke in a stage whisper that carried only to him and no further: "Be safe…my son."

Before Eliwood could respond, Hector appeared behind him, leaning over his shoulder at uncomfortably close distance. "So, how'd it go?"

"Hector, were you listening?" Eliwood asked in accusation with well-reserved frustration, turning around swiftly to meet Hector's eyes. It was hard enough just to keep himself from reprimanding his friend. The Ostian Lord simply shook his head, a soft smile gracing his face.

"Every time you speak of me, I seem to think less of myself," he commented, chuckling a bit. "If it'll soothe your mind, I can tell you right now that I did not hear a single word that was spoken. I had just come back to see Lady Eleanora leave. Did things go well?"

"I… Yes, I suppose they did," the red-haired Lord replied, covering up the falter fairly quickly. Hector looked away nonchalantly, knowing not to pressure his friend. Instead, he decided to change the subject once again.

"Aren't we…supposed to be heading somewhere?" he asked playfully, gesturing down the hallway with a wave of his hand. "That way perhaps?" He paused a moment as it seemed that Eliwood was considering and then quickly came in with, "Or perhaps this way, hm?" A grin crossed his face as he pointed into yet another corridor. "Or is this the lucky one?"

A perplexed look crossed the Lord's face for a moment as his eyes went from one hallway to the other. "I…"

"Lord Eliwood? At last, I have found you!" came an exuberant voice from behind the red-haired Marquess. Eliwood shifted to the side to see Erk practically scrambling toward him from one of the corridors that lead to the more protected inner parts of the castle.

"Erk? What are you doing here?" Eliwood asked, shocked that the mage had travelled from Etruria all the way to Pherae. He had a feeling, though, that Erk had more reason to come here than just seeing a friend.

Approaching the two Lords, the mage slowed to a walk before stopping in front of them. As Erk cautiously looked from left to right to check if anyone was near, Eliwood's suspicions were confirmed.

"Well met, Lord Eliwood, Lord Hector," the mage began calmly, remembering that he had forgotten to address them properly. He nodded respectfully in acknowledgment of each Lord before continuing. "If you don't mind, could we go to a more…private place to talk?"

"Of course," Eliwood replied swiftly, gesturing toward the empty guest room next to them before walking inside himself. Seeing as how it was probably to talk about a few issues, the guest room would suffice.

"I'm sure we have much to talk about. It has been a while, hasn't it?" Hector asked, unable to keep himself from joining into the conversation. "How have your studies been going?" Erk had already begun heading into the room, obviously anxious for what he had to say, but answered the Lord's question anyway. He understood that it was to cover up the possible urgency of the matter to any listeners around.

"It's been fine. Magic is really such a fascinating subject. I hope that my studies have also made my magic a bit better than when I had left you." Which reminded him: he needed to retrieve his pack from the palace guards. He had asked them to hold onto it for safe-keeping. Inside were a spare change of clothes and, most importantly, a few of his books. The only thing he didn't put in the satchel was his Fire tome and that was simply because he didn't feel very comfortable without it.

"Good, good," Hector replied cheerfully, softly closing the door behind him. "I am glad you find such joy in your studies." Eliwood couldn't help but let out a chuckle.

"Seeing as how Hector himself has never found much joy in it," he couldn't help but add, putting a hand over his mouth to suppress his soft laugh. Unfortunately, none of them had noticed the brown-haired thief that had been hiding around the corner earlier, as he was now pressing his ear against the door – testing his skills as a spy.

"Now, Erk, what is it you wanted to discuss?" Eliwood inquired, bringing his hand down so he wouldn't muffle his words and using the opposite hand to gesture towards a chair behind the mage. Erk shook his head at the gesture; sitting was not necessary for this. However, taking into consideration that it might have been rude on his part, he decided to take the seat in fear of insulting the Lord.

"I've been hearing some…uh…_disturbing_ rumors around Etruria," he began, not quite knowing the right way to introduce the matter if there even was one at all. "People have started saying that, well, a war is coming upon us."

" 'Us?' " Eliwood probed. He sat down next to a small table, directly across from Erk, and gave his entire focus to the purple-haired magic-user. Consequently, he did not notice Hector sit down on the other side to hear the tale as well. "What exactly do you mean by 'us?'"

"Well…" Erk fidgeted in his response. "It's said that it started out with a pact between a small portion of Bern and a part of Lycia."

"What?" Eliwood and Hector both exclaimed in unison, slightly rising from their chairs for a moment before managing to calm down and seating themselves again. It was Hector who had first regained his voice. "If it involves Lycia, don't you think I, Marquess Ostia, and Eliwood, Marquess Pherae, would know about it?" Erk shook his head, unable to provide any explanation.

"I don't know the exact details. It's just been bits and pieces of gossip I've managed to pick up. It's not quite all of Bern that made the pact, though. In reality, it's just a very small, perhaps even unimportant, part of it. It's more of a…" Erk hesitated to find the right words. "Rebel faction."

"A rebel faction?" Eliwood asked incredulously. The more the mage continued with his news, the more questions the Lord brought. "And for what reason do they have to rebel? And why would Lycia go against us so?" Erk shook his head again, his confidence falling even lower in the matter.

"I don't know, Lord Eliwood," he answered exasperatedly, holding out his hands as if to say he had nothing. "I'm just reporting to you what I've heard. It may not even be real. Perhaps the people have just been too suspicious since Nergal's downfall." Silence greeted him from the two Lords, which he took as permission to continue. "I then heard that Etruria has given its support to this…rebellious faction, and has therefore, given its support to that part of Lycia – perhaps even in hopes of a war." He paused so that the Lords could digest this new information. "I have no proof that these rumors are true, but I do know that Etruria seems to have tightened its defenses considerably. I was lucky for the fact that I was in the outskirts of Etruria when I heard the gossip. I then immediately decided to speak to you, so I wasn't affected that much by the sudden fortification. However, it also seems to be getting harder to cross the border into Lycia, Sacae, and Bern by the day, and it's said security has tightened even more dramatically in the more densely populated sections of Etruria. Perhaps they fear alerting their enemies too soon."

"Blasphemy!" the blue-haired Lord cried out in rage, slamming his large fist onto the small table beside him. Eliwood jolted to his feet from the shock of the fist coming so close to him. His eyes moved to the table for a moment, afraid that it would fall apart from Hector's immense strength. Luckily, it only wobbled, though a little too precariously for comfort. Erk squirmed in his chair, uncomfortable at the rage he had brought out of from the two Lords.

"But, be cautioned, they are just rumors," he murmured, even he himself starting to doubt the possible truth of the gossip. "Perhaps they started simply because of the disquietude of the continent. I…I wouldn't take them so seriously, not at this point. It's just something to keep in mind." Hector responded with a long, troubled sigh.

"I guess you're right," he agreed, getting up from his seat. Erk took this as a sign for him to stand up as well. "We shouldn't get worked up over just a few small rumors, right?" he asked, nudging Eliwood gently. Eliwood, however, didn't seemed to be listening too intently. His eyes were closed, appearing to be in deep thought. Only Hector's soft nudge reminded him that other people were still present. Opening his blue eyes to look from one to the other, he added his own two cents to their mutual agreement.

"Yes. We shouldn't disrupt the peace of our people until we know the facts," he stated softly, though his blue eyes told a different story. He was worried. Extremely worried. And yet he was completely helpless to do anything. The mage and Ostian Marquess sent anxious looks at each other as well, though obvious who their concern was for. Finally, Erk nodded again to the both of them, knowing they needed some time to sort out their thoughts and feelings. In the meantime, he had a request.

"If I would be allowed to change the subject for a moment, Lord Eliwood, I'd like to talk about your ball tomorrow…"

But Matthew had tuned out by then. Pushing himself away from the door, he couldn't help but mutter quietly to himself. "Well, well, a war, hmm? Perhaps I should look into the matter." Quickly, he walked to his room – drowned in his own thoughts.

_What could this mean? Surely Etruria does not wish to disrupt the refound peace upon the land…_

The thief shook his head in confusion, opening the door to his chamber and walking inside. Swiftly, he scrambled around the unfamiliar room for a piece of parchment, a quill, and an ink bottle. Placing it all on a desk before him, he wrote a small note to inform Lord Hector of his actions.

_Young Master,_

_I have just heard some gossip about some sort of war that might occur. Well, well, well, I might as well start confirming. I'm sure you would have gotten around to ordering me to do so regardless, so this isn't any trouble, right?_

_I think I'll start out in Etruria. If I can find any information of interest there, I shall report back to you immediately._

_Your most trusted spy,_

_Matthew_

It was a bit iffy on the details but at least it got his point across. That was the aim: vague but still informative. He even ended it with a sarcastic note: "Your most trusted spy." It was perfect.

He gently put the quill next to the piece of parchment and laid the ink bottle next to the quill. The letter was to remain on his desk. In the case that Lord Hector ever wanted to find him, he would stumble upon the note instead, which was exactly what it was there for.

And with that departing gift, the Ostian spy disappeared from Castle Pherae.

Hopefully Lord Hector wouldn't be too mad when he found out.

* * *

_Author's Note: _Erm, I apologize if anyone seems out of character or anything. It's been a while since I've really played the game. Say…a year or so? And that was only to Chapter 21 on Eliwood's story. I've just recently started playing it again because I managed to borrow it from Dark Conscience again. Also, since I don't know anything really about FE6, please forgive me if I make any mistakes on that part (though FE6 stuff won't show until later). However, feel free to correct me – I'd appreciate it. 

I'd like to give some thanks to my friends for helping me out with this story as well as all those amazing writers out there who inspire me. I love you all!

Additionally, I really appreciate all the effort my beta-reader, Luna, has put into this story to make it so much better. Her help is irreplaceable.

Again, any comments, critiques, predictions, etc. are welcomed. My next chapter should be up within a month and a half-ish. Luna's going to camp so I have to wait for her return.

Thank you for so much for reading.

-Alley Cat


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